All The Stars In Seheron
by Dajypop
Summary: Nobody wanted them to be together, but love is the strongest driving force of all.


**Title:** All The Stars In Seheron  
 **Author:** Daisy  
 **Fandom:** Dragon Age  
 **Setting:** Various  
 **Pairing:** Ashaad/Saemus Dumar, Justice/Seneschal Bran, Anders/Ethan Hawke, Fenris/Carver Hawke  
 **Characters:** Ashaad, Saemus Dumar, Marlowe Dumar, The Arishok, Justice, Seneschal Bran, Anders, Ethan Hawke, Fenris, Carver Hawke, Bethany Hawke, Aveline Vallen, Sister/Mother Petrice, Ser Varnell, Jowan  
 **Genre:** Romance/Adventure  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Chapters:** 1/?  
 **Word Count:**  
 **Type of Work:** Chapter Story  
 **Status:** Incomplete  
 **Warnings:** AU - 50's, AU - Alpha/Beta/Omega, Gore, Smut, Age Gap  
 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except Ethan.  
 **Summary** Nobody wanted them to be together, but love is the strongest driving force of all.

 **AN:** So… I should clarify by saying that this is a 50's ABO Romeo/Juliet + Bonnie/Clyde AU? This will be fun to write, I'm so excited for it. I honestly can't wait to get this rolling, so let's go~

 **Chapter One: Don't Let Me In With No Intention Of Keeping Me** ****

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Parties were not a thing the Qun usually condoned, except for the few festivals on their shores. Those could get crazy and chaotic; the only chaos the giants permitted in their lives. Even still, Aaron Shaad was stationed to visit the Senator's shindig, a sweet eighteen birthday party for his son, sent by his own family to be sure that nothing went awry. Their standing in this city was tenuous at best, and Arvin Shok knew this well. Aaron was his most trusted scout, and he knew that man would fit well enough in a costume party not to be readily noticed.

It was the costume he wasn't very fond of. Some kind of masked vampire hoohah that didn't make much sense to him was thrown over his broad shoulders, and he felt more like the Phantom of the Opera than what the costume box had described. A black cloak made of crushed velvet was lined with silky maroon fabric that clung uncomfortably soft to his skin, and swirled in a way that was a thousand times flashier than his normal comfort zone would allow. The shirtless aspect was something he could live with; he had nothing to hide. However, he wished that the pants weren't quite so clingy in all the most uncomfortable places. With the white mask in place, he finally left the compound he lived on, making his way through the dim rhinestone of Kirkwall's merchant quarter, frowning at the fawning women and gawking men.

His physique was not for their benefit. He had business to attend to, and being thickly muscled from his strong jaw to his quick feet helped that, it was nothing more, nothing less. He was not like Ethan Hawke, who obsessed over his body and constantly goaded people into looking. And with all of these eyes on him, not recognizing him as he walked towards the grand home of Senator Dumar, he felt antsy, for once in his life. This party was going to prove many appraising glances and stares, if this walk was any indication.

Upon arriving to the grand manor, he wasn't shocked to see what looked like hundreds of cars and people gathered all over the yard, and likely draped on every available surface in the house. This was an odd feeling pooling in his gut; he could be around hundreds of other Qunari without feeling an ounce of nervousness, but being around all of these bas… It was worrying. They were never clear in their intent, save for their selfishness and wanton need for these supposed 'freedoms' they claimed to cling to so tightly.

But he was merely here to protect their interests, and with a clear goal in mind, he made sure to blend in with a large group laughing as they entered the gregarious home. There had been hints that someone was going to make a move to hurt Saemus tonight, and if it was blamed on his people like he'd heard it would be, that wouldn't go over well; that was why he was here to put a stop to it.

A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling in the entryway, lighting the talking groups and stiff bodyguards littering the place easily. With so many lights, he was concerned the house would catch fire at any moment. He could hear music in another room, loud and blaring even out here, and there was no doubt that if he had to put up with that all night, he would return to Arvin with a massive headache. Already wanting to rub at his temples, he separated from the raucous group he'd blended in with, making his way towards the grand staircases that lead up to the personal quarters shared by the Dumars and Marlowe's trusted secretary. Never in his life had he seen Bran seem so happy, holding a glass with a light liquid in it in one hand and swaying against a strong man he immediately identified as the Chief of Police. This was looking more and more unpalatable the more he stayed, and he had to shake his head to clear his thoughts.

Only for them to fog again almost instantly as a scent he'd never caught in more than waking dreams hit his nose. Lifting his head and closing his eyes to better catch it, he almost sighed at the familiarity of it. There was the distinct flavor to it of an unmated Omega, with a sweet hint almost like honey drenched tobacco that made his mouth water. There would never be another fragrance like that, and he was suddenly hit with the exact place he knew it from; the Wounded Coast. He'd smelled that particular essence around his camp there sometimes, but he'd never been able to take the time to track it to its source.

It wasn't until he was overwhelmed by it that he finally opened those violet eyes again, finding himself standing over-

There was no way. It seemed that destiny had a sense of humor.

Saemus Dumar stood nearly nose-to-diaphragm with him, looking up with those impossibly pale blue eyes. The way he swayed made Aaron wonder if he'd been drinking, he almost seemed dazed, maybe even drunk on the incredibly thick, cloying aroma wafting off of the tower of muscle before him. There was a distinct spice, like cardamom and cloves, and the salt-smell of the open ocean mixed in with the heady incense of an unmated alpha. That was the very fragrance he loved when he visited the Wounded Coast; he'd always been too nervous to truly approach the man, until now, it seemed.

"I…" He began, clearing his throat and adjusting the collar of his - Dress? Oh, yes, he wore a dress - costume, "I apologize, sir. I didn't mean to, ah… Run into you like that." There was a small hint that, perhaps, he had, but he tried to keep the truth from his lips.

"You are not intruding, Imekari." That thickly accented rumble in his chest nearly sent shivers through the boy. Yes, if he was going to have to watch Saemus to be certain his assassin didn't hit his mark, he was by no means thinking of babysitting from afar anymore. No, he would stay right on top of his unofficial charge, if only because it was, obviously, the best way to protect him. It had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the fact that he suddenly felt he could swallow him up and eat on him forever.

"Ime… Huh?" Blinking a little, the smaller male finally forced himself away enough that he wasn't totally drunk on the other, a blush on his pale cheeks as he smiled slightly.

"Do not worry, it is nothing bad." It was a little too easy to want to pacify the beautiful creature before him, and, while he knew he had to keep his head, he couldn't stop his hand from finding the other's shoulder.

"Uh…" Gulping audibly, the inky haired male leaned his head against that hand, eyelids sliding shut on their own accord, "Would you like to dance?"

"I would be honored." Where did that come from? He wasn't fully aware of how these people would dance, but it couldn't be anything too hard, right? While these basra were awfully frivolous, they weren't very dedicated, so anything that needed to be learned would be easy.

When they got on the dancefloor, however, which was really just the large dining room turned into a place to dance, he found himself proved wrong.

Swing was not a type of dance he was familiar with, as dancing was something that didn't benefit the Qunari, so they typically didn't study it (save for formal things), and he learned quickly that it wasn't quite so easy to pick up. Saemus was a beautiful lead, though, showing him the steps and twirling on occasion, sending his Mharen Monroe inspired dress in a beautiful arc of white around his body. After a few bumbling steps, he finally managed to get the swing of things, even as the pretty omega before him started to drop a few new moves for him to stumble through.

As the song changed and the beat grew slower, the smaller male pressed in closer, adjusting their hands to properly slide into place. With a hand on the Dumar heir's waist, the other in his unthinkably large palm, the couple swayed across the dancefloor. It was almost too intimate to imagine, the way the slighter male aligned with his body, even as he invited him up onto the toes of his boots to help their height difference become a little less daunting. Even a man as strongly embedded in the Qun as Aaron was seemed to have fallen victim to these impractical means of showing off, admittedly if only to show Saemus that he could be just what the doctor ordered.

Through the grapevine, he had heard that the boy had refused pretty much every alpha presented to him. The reasoning was unclear, but the fact remained. It seemed odd, however, that the boy was so quickly taken by the man currently steering them around the room, to more than just a few people. With another twirl, guided by a strong hand, the noirette smiled brightly, and Aaron couldn't help but liken it to the glare of the sun. There was something otherworldly and delightful about this boy, and he was glad he'd been sent to protect him. Er… The Qunari's interests. That's what he was doing, protecting their _interests_.

Swirling around the dining room just to see that dress fan out again, the elder male looked down at the boy plastered to his strong chest, tempted to snarl when other dancers just got too close. It was all too soon when the song changed again, and Saemus was forced from his strong embrace as the band fell silent. Marlowe Dumar stepped up onto the stage with well-wishes for his son's birthday, even if Aaron could feel the tenseness in the boy's shoulders. In the middle of the speech, however, was when the party changed for the worse.

Suddenly, the lights on the entire compound flickered out, and panic ensued among the people inside, save for one couple; the target of this assassination and his fierce impromptu bodyguard.

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 **AN:** Well, it's always good to leave on a cliffy, right? I hope you guys stick around for the next chapter!


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